


Between Fire & Ice

by crimsonclovers



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonclovers/pseuds/crimsonclovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki was forever burning. This is the in between place. </p><p>Limbo</p><p>It takes place after Loki fell into the abyss of space. He turned from Asgard met shady characters in a dark realm. Those that set him on his path to war. This is his personal journey, a POV. </p><p>He was consumed with rage yet still did he ever find his identity? he chose to be the villain, but what choice did he have?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

The Moment Loki began to burn was the moment he let go.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Thor had a tight grip on his hand, but Loki was wishing his brother could just let go...Loki should have let go of this family a long time ago. He belonged to no one. This time it was diffrent. He was not angry or jealous of Thor, he only wanted out. Something had crossed over in him and he couldn’t go back. What need was a prince of Asguard who could never be king?  
He had acted on impulse. Something uncommon for him in youth. Loki always sought perfection, or approval. The face of disappointment was more than he could bear from Odin. He would follow his gut, and his impulse told him to let go. He let his grip slide... There was a certain comfort in the black abyss. A blank unknown stretched out before him...And then there was nothing.  
Loki could not say how long he had fallen; it was as though he had slept as Odin does. There was nothing but an empty void of time and blackness.  
Until finally...He was here, but where was he? He hit the ground. It felt as though every bone in his body had shattered. He began to look at his legs and his hands. Yes he was alive. Did the Gods of Valhalla reject him?  
He squeezed his fists, and clinched his teeth and closed his eyes as he began to feel pain surge throughout his body. He willed his muscles to move. His arms and neck ached as though he never used them. He opened his eyes trying to focus on something, anything.  
Can I stand? He thought wincing. He braced the weight of his legs on his arms tying to stand. His muscles atrophied from lack of use. He tried to stable himself on the cold stony ground. He was able to stumble to a stone and perch his lame body. He had never been sick before this nervous feeling was new. It took a particular skill surviving battles without major injury, but Loki had always found a way to escape pain. He stretched his limbs and winced.  
He looked around for the first time clearly. It was black and barren this place. He’d seen many realms, but never this one. He’d never seen such darkness. Even the air was stale with no wind or light. Loki squinted against the misted outlook. He thought to himself perhaps he had lost his mind and he is still falling? He shivered the thought away, deciding that if he had lost his mind he would imagine a less dull setting than an empty rock.  
He was expecting death, but after wiping the blood from his mouth he began to fear something worse in the still darkness. Was he alone? Something made him think he was being watched.  
He spun around as quickly as his sore muscles would allow. His eyes searched the landscape again desperately seeking the eyes he felt on him. He closed his eyes to listen …  
That’s when he heard it. The darkness hissed his name.


	2. Wyrd Women

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fall of Loki we are left wandering...but here Odin reflects on Loki back to the moment of his fall, and reveals some interesting new information from his past....here is where Odin meets mystical women.

Wyrd Women  
Odin thought it best not to search. He watched Thor and felt no comfort in the role he had played. Surely one as old and wise as Odin would have something to say, but he could not find the words. So both men were silent.  
As he had cast one son out, he watched the other fall. He was prepared for Thor. He saw his faults and loved him still, his discipline necessary to erase the mistakes.  
However, Loki was different. Odin lack of understanding empathy and true knowledge of his son had blinded him. Surely this was not the destiny of the sons of Odin, but there were too paths in this legend.  
One road was right, set and worn well with the footsteps of those before, a trusted road with little undergrowth illuminated by the sun by day, and the stars at night. This was the path Odin had taken, and his son Thor. Loki had gone the sinister way and could never turn back now.  
Odin decided to break the silence “Such hatred, may he know the peace in death that I could not afford him in life, again we pick up his pieces.” Odin said in a matter of fact way. He turns away willing his face to not betray his sadness and rage. “My son we will not think of it today, I am grateful for your return.” He says turning back to face Thor. Thor was tired he aforded his Father respect with a curt nod. “We should rest Father and make plans to rebuild...”  
Thor walked away empty with nothing to read on his stoic face.  
Odin turned away from his son guilty and ironicly glad he was being hardenend by this. Thor was flesh and blood. It pained him to see the pride and arrogance in Thor but only because it reflected his own faults. Odin knew the journey was better suited with an attitude of reverence and not blind will.  
Loki was something else.  
Odin kept the child not only out of preparation, but also out of fear. Odin was never one to manipulate fate. He would swallow truth without honey to sweeten its taste.  
This was fate.  
Even before he saw Loki he had been told of him by the Norn witches at the east end of Asguard. Freya had sent him to see them. He had never been to them before of his own accord.  
Battles were fought with courage and plans were made with historical knowledge and strategy, the all-seeing God Headwall was Odin’s best trusted source of magic.  
The witches used prophecy and magic. Women were better suited to the mysteries. It was ergi for a strong Nordic to rely on smoke and mirrors. The Norn witches were old as the land that they came from. Odin remembers the trip in its sharpest detail. It was before he was Odin one eye.  
It hadn’t taken long to reach the base of the world tree sacred land with lush gardens filled with colorful roses smelling of grass and rain. His journey was short, and he hadn’t taken time to stop to look and appreciate the foliage. Freya had sent him, but she never told him why. She always viewed the world with a wide perspective; it was time he had trusted that instinct she possessed.  
The youngest of the witches, Verandi, knew the past of all men, but she was mute so she could not speak of it.  
The second witch, Urd, only reflects the age of the present, but you cannot ask her because she could not hear you.  
The elder witch was Skuld she held the future as though it had already been written, but her eyes were a milky fog and she could not see.  
Each of them had a telepathic connection to the other. Their shared senses bonded them and enabled them to more fully view the world around them.  
They kept to themselves near the base of Yggdrasil, watering the tree in sacred water from the spring Urðarbrunnr.  
When he approached the women were weaving daisy chains sitting in an open field near the tree. The youngest had a crown on her head and placed one on the middle sister’s head, and skipped away to cool her feet in a nearby stream.  
The middle sister whispered into the ear of the elder looking as Odin approached.  
Of the three Odin turned his eyes to the ugliest one. The old hag winked her blind milky eye; keeping one eye open she faced him.  
Wyrd women Odin thought strange of the blind woman to look at him with one eye. It was not until later that he saw the irony in her actions, foretelling Odin’s future even then. Her voice was frail, but her hands were graceful as she reached for him. She spit into it. Odin inhaled deeply.  
He chose not look the oldest in eye. He instead looked away and faced the youngest while the old woman held his right hapatch e watched the young nymph. She was wading in the river with the hem of her skirt bunched in her hands, a beauty with pale skin and fiery red curls. The youthful sister looked to her feet and blushed. Hitching the hem up even higher when she cought his gaze. She toyed with the God watching her clinging fabric and wet skin.   
The witch of present rolled her eyes; even the ruler of the Gods preferred her youthful body and face. She spoke to the oldest keeping her eyes on Odin “Sister, he comes on behalf of Freya.”  
The Old woman croaked to silence her sister while continuing to study the lines if his palm. “You will foster a son of a fallen enemy.”  
Odin snatched his hand from hers and wiped it on leather of his tunik. He turned his head to the side and squinted encouraging the woman to continue.  
“What Thor Cannot do, and what even you Odin cannot do, Loki will do.” She looked to the trees and beyond Odin’s face.  
In a flash Odin’s eyes were glowing with anger. “Witch, you lie!” Odin stepped forward and grabbed the neck of the old hag; the three witches grabbed their necks and begin to struggle for breath.  
Odin tossed the woman to the ground and turned in disgust. He left without word; they offered no information he trusted.  
It wasn’t long after his visit Odin decided he would not think of the prophecy. He only went to the witches to appease Freya.  
Odin hadn’t thought much of the prophecy and now that Loki was dead he reached up to his face, running his aged fingers over his hallowed eye patch. Thinking of what consequences could lay ahead.


	3. Thanos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has fallen, he meets Thanos, it is a journey into mystery and Loki is exposed to a world of villains and black magic.

“Who told you the name of a God?” Loki shouted opening his eyes to nothing. He panicked. Knowing the name of a God conferred power to the person who spoke it.  
His eyes searched the barren landscape shifting defensively. He saw a rock and thought I can change into a roach and scurry under that rock in this barren land. He rubbed his dust covered eyes thinking to himself. “My mind deceives me.” Slouching he leaned against the rock that only moments ago he thought of seeking shelter under.  
“Who told you that you were a God, Loki?”  
Loki opened his eyes again. A hooded being faces him, but he cannot see his face. For a moment he is frightened and confused. Then he squints taking in the ugly face before him, is it a chitauri? He cannot see the man’s face has a gold cage around his pale flesh colored skin. “Prowling death!” Loki’s eyebrow shoots up. “What happened to your face?” Impropriety escaped his usual charming demeanor.  
The hooded one repeats his question unmoved. “Who told you that you were a God, Loki?  
Loki straitened himself and shot his chin up. “I am the son of Odin, prince of Asgard, and  
Who are you, and where is your skin?”  
The Chitauri lifts his head slightly to expose his lower face. Black sharp teeth smile at Loki. “I am a gate keeper of ancient knowledge, but you are not here because of me.” He turned and walked through the mist. Loki followed behind him slightly less intimidated than he should have been. The Chitauri made a circle with his hand and stirred the fog away. Loki’s eyes grow wide watching the darkness and shadows clear a path to reveal someone seated in a throne.  
The man smiles at Loki. “Odinson, great Loki welcome.” He stands with colossal proportions stretching tall and walks to Loki. He is the size of a giant and wide as Volstag.  
Showing respect to the purple giant Loki bows his head and goes to one knee painfully trying not to wince in front of his ominous company, keeping his eyes on him. Loki repeated the question he asked the darkness before. “Who told you my name?”  
“Your actions have drawn an audience.” He stands above Loki looking down on him.  
The purple giant clasps his hands behind his back walking as a general facing his troop “I see much, and your reputation has preceded you. Surely the man who gave you your godly name also gave you the divine right to rule?”  
Loki stepped back leaning on a hip in a casual stance, trying to look nonchalant in his company. Not allowing his face to expose pain he was in or the fear welling in his stomach.  
Loki offered him a sly smile. “My blood betrays me from the moment of my conception. Must divine right be given? Can I not earn it?”  
The giant walked back to his throne his long thick limbs fill the seat. He leaned forward grinning at Loki “My name is Thanos, and I know of no man that has been granted such rights. All divinity must be taken.”


	4. Orange Stone

The dark realm had many hidden passages. Thanos was hospitable. The hooded one opened a door in the ground, the grey stones were lit by torches, and the floor was covered in dirt, it was a winding labyrinth of space. More space than one would expect in such a dank dark hole in the ground. The winding path led down a long hall with many doors, they walked in silence. Loki followed feeling his pocket for his dagger. He would only have the dagger and his magic to protect him in this dark realm.   
They arrived and the hooded one gestured him only pointing to his door before leaving. The large heavy wooden door opened, Loki was momentarily shocked when he noticed the room had the appearance of his room in Asguard. He turned back and opened the door; it was still the dark dirt covered floor in the hall. But in this room, it was HIS room. The ornate detail and even the tapestries on the wall matched his memories of home. It must have been magic. Beautiful comforting magic, a fire blazed and his feather bed caught him as he flung his tired body on it.   
Magic was shunned by Odin. He wanted his boys to be warriors. Loki spent his youthful years sparring, practicing hand to hand with a short blade and quick wit. Thor was always stronger and faster than he, until he learned to anticipate his brother’s moves. Loki never developed a taste for large weaponry. He found it heavy and cumbersome. Odin thought it unmanly to rely upon magic for anything but a final resort, but when the battle commenced it came as second nature.   
When food was brought to him he wanted to devour it, but he resisted the temptation, not trusting Thanos. The meal looked savory with meat, mead, and ripe, juicy fruits his mouth watered with the sight of it. If only he had Idunn’s apples of youth from Asguard his body would heal after eating just one of her fruits. He would wait until he knew more about this place before he let his guard down.  
Later, he was bathed and washed by Thanos’ slaves. They were gaunt, thin, some blue women, and some green, and one that had a form most appealing to Loki. He looked at her for the first time. She was dressed as an Æsir. She had a long white dress with raven straight hair and mysterious eyes. He avoided the eyes of most when they cleaned his bruises and blood from the fall, somewhat shamed by his injury.   
Except the one, she was beautiful. He stared right into her eyes as she poured oil into his bath. Her eyes were a light glowing pale blue that had a hauntingly vacant look dark brows framed her uninterested eyes, her pale skin, and sunk in cheeks made her dark features even more striking. She looked unconcerned by the staring. She seemed ordinary, she by no means was. He alienates himself from her a little by inspecting her so closely. She didn’t blush when he stared at her. She looked almost lifeless. He shifted his gaze.   
He wondered if she was mistreated by the look of her. The ladies were so quick and efficient they were gone as soon as he dressed and he was alone again. Nobility was forbidden from speaking with servants at home. That typically suited him just fine. However now in this foreign place he was lonely for some company or conversation. He had been impressed and comforted by the amenities his host’s magic presented. However, he found it unnerving that the magic showed him exactly what he was familiar with.   
He laid eyes wide in his underground illusion thinking, but not sleeping. Was Thanos a man he could form an alliance with? Surely he was a man to lead battles; Men like him and Odin carried themselves in a position demanding respect. Trust was not as important as the opportunity to know a man such as Thanos, what he could take from a leader like this.   
Loki only took a day to somewhat heal and think before asking the gatekeeper to take him to Thanos.   
When he entered the dining hall Thanos was eating a revolting looking charred animal; clearly wherever he was from the culture was hospitable but lacked manners. The purple God’s face was greasy and the food smeared his chin. He looked at Loki and offered him to sit in a grunted gesture. Thanos didn’t bother to wipe his face. He pointed a greasy hand to the wine, the goblet in front of Loki filled bottom to top with a deep crimson wine without him even pouring it. Loki drank. It would be the first drink Loki had accepted from his host, he had refused the meal but it would be an insult to turn down a cup right in front of the man. “Is this an illusion?” Loki asked shifting the brass ornate goblet in his hand before he drank.  
Thanos ripped a piece of flesh from the bones of his meal. When he spoke food fell from his greasy purple lips “Some of the rooms have a template of spells built into them. You see what you wish in the bedrooms and here in the dining hall.” He looked at him and smiled smugly leaning back in satisfaction. “I’ve spent month in those rooms.”  
Loki raises his glass. “To Thanos, and to illusions the first of all pleasures.” Thanos accepts the toast and chugs his wine immediately going back to inhaling his plate of meats.   
Loki drank large hungry gulps looking away from his slovenly host; it was a dry tart vintage that smelled like juniper. He didn’t care if it was poisoned. The taste of it made him sigh. He sat back and looked at his empty glass; although the taste was exquisite it was surprisingly unsatisfying. He stood waiting for his host bid him a seat, as was customary for royalty.   
But Loki’s’ etiquette is wasted on Thanos. The slob stands and wipes his face with his arm. “Time and tide wait for no man…or God for that matter.” Thanos gestures Loki to follow.   
Outside Thanos leads across the stony stairs. Strange a place so empty hides so many passages. They come upon a dark hole covered by a huge boulder. Thanos pauses in front of the entrance lifting and then pushing the giant stone as though it were nothing. Loki follows him in at the entrance down a spiral staircase. A long hall spans in front of them, the walls are piled with skulls. It is a catacomb, and the room is littered with items of dark magic. Thanos waves his hand guiding him on. There are so many skulls and candles the bones make in intricate pattern that is almost artistic in the darkness. “This room, Loki, is not an illusion.” Thanos boasts grabbing a torch. A light glowed from the end of the hall. They entered a room lighted by fire and reflective treasures. The room also housed a collection of artifacts and weapons. Loki mused; the room was similar to Odin’s great treasure room which held the casket of ancient winters and other secrets. Loki’s eyes hungrily searched the room.   
Thanos stalked into the room and grabbed an item from one of the shelves. Thanos walked back to Loki with a less studious object in his hands. Of all the glimmering things this looked like a dirty yellow rock. But as he approached Loki could see it was pieced together in tiny bricks in the shape of a pyramid. In his large, purple hands, paying close attention to the trickster God’s face, Thanos pressed the top of the artifact. Thanos knew Odin had his own room of strangeness. Thanos smiled at the hunger on the young God’s face.   
The aged stone pieces slid open to reveal an orange stone glowing like burning embers.   
Loki’s eyes grew wide thinking, if Odin knew of this room he would not mind that I am not as powerful as my brother Thor. He would see how I, Laufeyson, honor him with treasures. The thought stung like venom.   
His gaze fixated on the bauble before him.   
Thanos looked at the small object and cleared his throat. “The great pyramids, built by the gods that lived on Earth.”   
“Would you like to see the architect?” Thanos sets the Pyramid down and reaches for a glowing staff. Loki looks away from the puzzling pyramid to view gold crafted staff topped with a mystical blue glowing stone Thanos was holding. “A bumble bee with a single stinger is no threat, but together the hive will supply nectar and attack as a mass of poison” Thanos calls one of his slaves into the room. He touches the tip of the weapon to her chest and her eyes begin to glow taking in the blue light. Loki was reminded of the slaves he met the night before, vacantly gazing. Thanos commands her to undress. She abides mechanically removing her tunic and undergarments. Loki observes that marks run down her back and raised burns that appear to be branding of a skull. Loki quickly checks to see if Thanos saw him eyeing her marks. He did. Thanos raises his eyebrows, and Loki fakes a laugh of approval to mask his disgust with the strange purple God. “Now away with you woman, until I call again.” Thanos watches her leave. “She is peaceful, she follows orders, and her obedience knows no limits. Of course the thrill is in the chase.” Thanos sighs. “After a while these rooms and my servants are boring and empty. A hollow victory, when they remember the world as it was. True servitude is earned.”   
Loki begins to feel uncomfortable. His eyes drift back to the orange gem glowing from the pyramid. Interrupting Loki’s gaze Thanos grabs the pyramid container. “The staff is capable of many things, but this, I’m not sure you want to know what this does.”   
He held the relic and offered his other hand. Loki cautiously grabs Thanos’s hand.   
The room turns gray. Thanos disappears, and Loki is chained to a rock. The new surroundings immediately feel familiar although they are new. A piercing screaming and grinding sound fills his ears.   
A cycle of pain begins to build, and dread fills him in anticipation. A giant snake peers over his face. The creature slowly deliberately drips boiling acid from its mouth slapping its forked tongue on him searing venom into his skin, face, and mind. He is bound and covered in blood. There is so much blood he can barely tell if he has skin in the red haze, the ropes binding him to the rock are entrails.   
Loki shakes and quivers, jumping and wreathing in agony with no way to escape the horrible surrounding pain. All he hears are screams and grinding like metal on metal screeching.   
He is pulled from this vision, and immediately beside Thanos and the ground is moving beneath them, he hears thunder and for a split moment he is comforted by the thought perhaps his brother would help him escape. He still hears screaming, and realizes they are his own screams. Loki is covered in sweat and tears.   
Thanos shouts over the rumbling earthquake, trying to spur Loki from his vision. “LOKI, YOU ARE HERE!”   
Loki shape shifts into a scorpion and curls into a striking position…The earthquake stops.   
Thanos is calm. Frowning he brings his voice down. “Loki, you are here.” Thanos has already stowed the gem into its pyramid case.   
Loki shifts back into himself, sweating and curled into a ball. His mind racing with the future he knows he was just shown. The familiarity of it haunts him. He holds his hand to his face to cover his shock.   
Thanos turns, allowing Loki time to compose himself.


	5. Smoke and Mirrors

Loki didn’t compose himself. Thanos had his slaves drag him back to his enchanted room. They leave him on the floor alone. Loki pulls himself from the floor to look out his window. It’s Asgard, the familiar view of clovers, and grass across an immense field and an orange sunset lights his view. It gives him the comfort he seeks to pull him from his state of panic. Loki began take in the details of the room, his blanket warn and soft, the shelves of books filled with magical tomes and Celtic runes. He ran his fingers along the worn spines searching for a familiar tittle. Hands shaking, he pulled a favorite Æsir book, a black Celtic tale. Opening the thick bound book and found it empty, blank pages all of them. His breath caught in his throat. In a panic he searches the shelves and finds all the magical tomes are empty devoid of any craft or sacred text to distract his already fragile mind. In a fit he throws the book at his door. He sits, and stares thinking of nothing and everything, wide eyes staring blankly. He ponders, knowing none of the books are really here and this is a room of magic, how can he know that any he saw was true. Perhaps the serpent and his bloody binding was an illusion? Perhaps he was still falling and none of it was real, but the pain was like nothing else harsh and brutal unrelenting pain. The myriad of thoughts leaves him sweating.  
He sat on the floor beside the bed taking comfort in the coolness of the stone floor. He closed his eyes, wiping his brow. Waiting as the sun set, as the room became dark. No sleep would be peaceful. He would see the serpent in his nightmares he was sure of it. He turned off the lights waiting for peace in his silence. After a few hours the stone floor relaxes him.  
The door began to creak open. His eyes flew up to the door; he saw a large dark hooded figure standing filling the frame of the doorway. In this night dark as space itself he called to the figure that stood in his doorway. Loki struggled to his feet “Who goes there?” he stepped back against the edge of the bed. He prepares himself fists at his side, he waited. Before the hooded answers he steps closer between the window and leans to Loki. The moonlight still covers him in shadow.  
The moonlight is enough light to reveal blue skin, and angry red eyes. The blue ghost smiles revealing his jagged teeth. “Don't you know me, boy; don’t you know from whence I come?” Laufoy stands straight and removes his hood and cloak. Loki's horror is complete. His mouth opens in shock. He whispers numb “I killed you.” Laufoy walks across the room, and grabs a mirror from his bed stand. He stares at his own face and picks his teeth. “Every wolf suffers fleas, tis easy enough to scratch.” He turns to face his son. “You who forsake your own blood having never known me ask why I live.” Loki feels anger welling in his chest, he wears his hatred as pride. “I can ask the same of you, ice giant.” Loki is not afraid of this man anymore Laufoy strides to an empty chair and sits. He lets out a sigh and gestures around "illusions." then he turns to look across the room. “How like you my gifts Loki?” He gestures and Loki turns his head to see a table set in the center of his room. “Did you think Freya was the only one that granted you your talent for illusions, God of Mischief?” He walks to the table and gestures Loki to follow. “Sit…drink talk with me boy.” Loki looks at the table and a goblet at the table fills with thick red wine from the bottom.  
_____________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It could be true, who is to say Laufoy didn't pass on the magic gene?  
> Perhaps, that's why Thor never uses the illusion magic. Laufoy should not have trusted his son to let him kill Odin, so he would test the trust by sending his fabricated double. (Something totally Loki ish) That's how he got the idea for the dark realm. 
> 
> I'm not done with this work, however if you have read this far you know I only have a short way to go before I reach the beginning of The Avengers. Thank you so much for reading, please comment or kudos. I've now had over 100 reads and no comments and 2 kudos. Does my writing work?


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